


This Is What You Want

by kaathefriendlysnekk



Series: Chain The Fox [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Collars, Kissing, Leashes, M/M, Mentioned Akaashi Keiji, Mentioned Miya Osamu, Non-Graphic Violence, Organized Crime, Rough Sex, Teasing, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaathefriendlysnekk/pseuds/kaathefriendlysnekk
Summary: Slender fingers trace the outline of his lips and Atsumu is no longer in an underground cell with the weight of the city above him bearing him down.“I see a sly little fox and I can’t stop myself.” Tsukki slides in a finger.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Chain The Fox [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963645
Kudos: 17
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	This Is What You Want

**Author's Note:**

> For the Whumptober 2020 prompt of Day 2: Collars.

“Tsukki, why?” Atsumu croaks again. His ankles are not bound anymore, so he sits on his haunches, legs crossed in front of him. He has been confined to the tiny cell for a day now, leashed to the wall, and asked by Kuroo to remember who he truly is. Who he always has been.

“It’s my job,” Through the little circular opening to keep an eye on the inmate, Tsukishima’s face remains hooded on the other side of the heavy iron door but in no way can Atsumu mistake that voice for someone else’s. It had serenaded his senses like no one ever could.

Nobody can anymore.

Not after those piercing amber eyes have impaled him on a pike high up on the castle walls for everyone to see. He is being made an example of. _If you cross the line, this is what you will become. Do you want to become like Atsumu?_

“That’s right, little bird. It’s up to you, Hitoka and Keiji,” Atsumu broke out in a cold sweat on hearing the name in Kuroo’s distant voice. “To keep my men in line.”

 _Akaashi is here too. That means Samu was being tracked._ The pretty office worker was a regular customer at Samu’s. _A true critic of onigiri_ , Samu had gushed and promptly had a crush on him. Good thing Atsumu had a gut feeling and removed his brother from that area before Akaashi could get any closer.

If only Atsumu could say that about himself. He is doing a bad job of staying away from Tsukishima even now.

The cover of the little circular window is slid shut. Atsumu can no longer see the dark silhouette of Tsukishima’s clothes but he can still feel his presence. With a click, the iron door of his cell is pushed open. The black figure slinks in and the door closes once again behind him. He carries a bowl that smells like food.

Tsukishima’s face is hidden behind the cowl of his short, wide-sleeved robe. The tight-fit turtle neck that accentuates the sharp curves of his torso is paired with black booty shorts underneath. His legs are bare from the thighs downwards, feet clad in ankle-high boots of black faux leather. 

It is the kind of outfit Tsukki loved to wear when they stayed in at home on their day-offs. He would say it made him feel good about himself, powerful about the scars on his thighs to flaunt them before his lover, to have his lover bow down in front of him. “This is who I am,” Tsukki would say.

Now Atsumu knows why.

Tsukki has been a threat all this time and Atsumu failed to get the message. He is now a perfect prey for the hungry predator.

The bowl is pushed toward Atsumu as Tsukishima slides down against the wall and slumps on the ground with a soft thud. They are squished together inside with both of them being big men, but Tsukishima doesn’t seem to mind. The steamed rice has gone cold and hard with a dollop of some poisoned curry Atsumu has no idea about. A deep-bellied spoon is dunked in it.

“Eat up, Atsu,” Tsukishima lets his cowl drop.

The hairs at the back of Atsumu’s neck stand up at the nickname. _How dare he_ \- his staggeringly flaring thoughts die down as he notices the fresh bruise under Tsukishima’s eye. “Your eye, Tsukki. Did Kuroo -?”

Tsukishima shakes his head, his short blonde hair damp with perspiration against his forehead. A small smile plays on his lips as he stares right back at Atsumu, roasting him in those golden pots of hellfire.

“A little skirmish out there. Some like going down with a fight, you’ll see soon. Eat up.”

Atsumu picks up the bowl and scoops up some of the contents with the spoon. It does not taste bad, but there is something off about it. Petty criminals like Atsumu never had the luxury of taking hot meals on time. He is used to cold and hard rice and stale curries. But there is something wrong.

Something is wrong about Tsukishima who sits there watching him eat and is a lot more fidgety than usual. He looks excited for him to finish the food.

Maybe the food does contain poison and he will start spasming if he has enough of it, Atsumu thinks. Tsukki is only here to watch how it all goes down. Maybe he will call Kuroo and the two of them will watch together as Atsumu dies slowly, painfully.

Atsumu feels hot and sweaty in spite of being naked. And he is cold. So cold.

_At least, this ends today. Hopefully._

Tsukishima is on him as soon as Atsumu puts down the empty bowl. He kicks the bowl aside and straddles him, tugging at the collar that’s linked to the wall behind Atsumu.

“Remember how we used to go at it?” The hint of a smile still lingers on Tsukki’s face. By reflex, Atsumu raises his hand to touch his face but stops short.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tsukishima follows the hand that drops back in its place as Atsumu turns his face away, burning in shame. After everything, his body cannot stop reacting to Tsukki’s presence.

“Scared?”

“You played me,” he rasps.

Tsukki shrugs. “At least you knew I was a sex-worker. I didn’t put on some dumb office-worker shit like Keiji had to.” He thumbs the leather strap on Atsumu’s neck and mutters under his breath, “I’ll have to ask Kuroo for a spiked one on you. Will look better.”

His lithe body shifts in Atsumu’s lap, throwing his legs around his waist to make himself as comfortable as possible in the cramped space. Atsumu tries to ignore the heat pooling at the base of his stomach.

His fingers card through the tangled mop of hair on Atsumu’s head. “And maybe a bath too once in a while, if we’re going to keep you.”

Atsumu wants to touch his face, needing to see for himself if this Tsukishima is still his Tsukki in some parts. And so he does. He touches the bruise, Tsukki flinches but does not withdraw. Slender fingers trace the outline of his lips and Atsumu is no longer in an underground cell with the weight of the city above him bearing him down.

“I see a sly little fox and I can’t stop myself.” Tsukki slides in a finger. By instinct, Atsumu sucks on it, relishing the slightly salty taste and the bitter surface of Tsukki’s black nail paint. He bites it, rolls his tongue around it. His hands again move in their natural trajectory out of habit and hover around the slightly rumpled robe.

Atsumu’s eyes find Tsukki’s. “Go on,” he says. “Touch me.”

Tsukishima has always been good at giving instructions, and Atsumu at following them. Atsumu can’t say he followed them to the ‘T’, because if he did, then he wouldn’t be doing this to Tsukki here. He’d be on his bed, at the back parlor of a casino or in a blind lane thrusting in Tsukki after a finished job, still working under Kuroo.

Now his fingers shake before they slip under Tsukishima’s robes. The turtleneck feels familiar. Tsukki’s finger slips out of his mouth leaving a trail of drool dripping down his chin.

“Like you mean it, Atsu,” the blonde snarks with a roll of his hips. “Or do you not have it in you anymore?” Another grind follows.

Atsumu does have it in him, along with a shitload of shame. Shame that does not suit someone on the streets like him. Where is all this shame coming from?

He runs his hands along Tsukki’s sides, reaching the top of his robe from underneath. He unbuttons it and lets it fall over his shoulders, the black turtleneck showing off all of Tsukki’s edges that he should have stayed away from. Atsumu pulls out the shirt from where it is tucked in the shorts and rolls it up to Tsukki’s armpits. The blonde’s hardness against his own is evident through his shorts.

As Atsumu takes a nipple in mouth, Tsukki inhales sharply, fingers clutching at the roots of his matted hair. The two of them flow in a rhythm that only people who know each other’s cues by heart can follow. If Atsumu was in the right state of mind, he would have wondered if Tsukki was doing everything from muscle memory alone. Now he just wants to have a good fuck that’s probably going to be the last one of his life if he is lucky enough.

Tsukishima’s back arches when he palms his dick through the shorts while squeezing his nipple and biting the other one quite sharply. He whimpers and looks down as Atsumu lets go of the nipple with a pop.

Tsukki’s hand snakes down to grab at Atsumu’s already hardened dick. He lifts himself and lets him tug off the shorts. The pair gather and dangle from one of Tsukki’s boots.

Even in this state, Atsumu finds Tsukki a sight to behold. Precum oozes down his length and Tsukki points to the shorts. “Pocket. Lube.”

 _A good fuck,_ Atsumu reminds himself. _It’s just a good fuck for Tsukki too._

He scrambles to find the little sachet and tears it off with his teeth. The fact that Tsukki is running his hands up and down their cocks together clouds his rational thinking. He squeezes out of half the content on his fingers and before he can put them to use, Tsukki tips his chin up to meet his lips.

It has been a long time since they had last kissed, but Atsumu still remembers the mornings spent together at his little loft, some of the nights even, when neither of them had to go out for work and they would put on a movie to watch together, either falling asleep or fucking, whichever the mood called for.

And then they would get ready together in the evenings and leave for their works. After an insane amount of adrenaline kept him alive at his job, Atsumu would call Tsukki to see if he was busy. If not, they would steal off in some empty back alley for quick relief. That was Atsumu’s normal.

Tsukki is the same as ever. His eyes roll to the back of his head, nails digging into Atsumu’s shoulders as he rides him. With his strangled grunts matching Tsukki’s loud moans, Atsumu has no shame anymore. He is a leashed dog in heat holding on to Tsukki’s hips. He cries out as Tsukki’s walls eventually clench around him. Tsukki slumps forward in his arms, having spilled all over Atsumu’s stomach.

“That was good.” His words come out in between short gasps right against Atsumu’s ear.

Atsumu has clawed at Tsukki’s ass cheeks leaving thin bloodied tracks just the way he likes it. The light burning sensation on them still lingering, Tsukki stands up and dresses as best as he can.

Without another word, he gives Atsumu one last look and pulls the iron door open. Atsumu leans to reach his hand for one last time but he is held back by the collar that adorns his neck. Even his hand cannot reach Tsukki’s anymore.

Kuroo has been waiting on the other side. He watches Atsumu like the master who watches his wild guard dog while he decides the best method to train him. Atsumu knows Kuroo has the hardest method in store for him.

“Did you have a good time, Kei?” Atsumu notes that Kuroo calls all of his underlings by their given names. During his time, he would just get a text message with instructions and an occasional picture, meeting none of them except Kuroo at times. Those meetings were usually at cheap bars.

“I did.”

“Should I tell him then? Or are you going to do the honors, little bird?” Kuroo’s hand caresses Tsukki’s ass as if to mock the way Atsumu has marked him there.

As Tsukishima pulls up his cowl, Atsumu catches a sinister grin. The door shuts behind him but his disembodied voice terrifies Atsumu with its parting words.

“Keiji and I got him. Get ready to meet your brother, Atsu.”

**Author's Note:**

> Now that we've had recurring mentions of Osamu and Akaashi, we'll be diving into their dynamics with the next part.
> 
> This was fun to write in the middle of exams and helped me relax (don't ask me exactly what part of this is relaxing, I'm aware none of it is).
> 
> Anyway, so I draw stuff on [tumblr](https://tumblr.com/blog/kaathefriendlysnekk) and yell at friends on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kaartwheels). Would love to yell together!


End file.
